Claimed
by irishwoodkern
Summary: Daryl finally decides to take what's his.
Daryl was tired. He was weary of Alexandria and the routines of life there. He was sick of the residents and their curious stares and weird cheeriness. He was bone-tired of the way his life had ground to a halt since their arrival at the town.

Sure, it wasn't as if he was really going anywhere before the world ended, but now what he was feeling was frustrated. After so long on the road, it was as if he couldn't stay still for two seconds. Ever since they had been forced out of the prison, they had been running from one crisis to another, searching for a place to belong. Now that they were here, all Daryl wanted to do was take off again.

It made no damn sense. He should be happy, but most of the time he was horny and irritable instead. Something told him what he was feeling wasn't going to be fixed by a quick ten-finger shuffle while lying alone in a cold bed at night. There was one person who would be capable of fixing all his problems, and he had no idea how to broach the subject.

He was never good at all that lovey-dovey crap. In his experience, girls came in two types – those that liked him and those that wouldn't give him the time of day. The ones that liked him usually sobered up enough to sneak out before he woke the next morning.

Truth was – he had never been in love before. Sure, he'd had crushes when he was younger. When he was twelve a family moved into a shack down the road from their house. There was a girl there around his age that he took a shine to. Emily was her name – the girl with hair like spun gold. He had heard that phrase in English class once and liked it. It all ended when Merle found some letters that he had tried to write her in his childish scrawl. He read them aloud in front of their father and some of his buddies. They all laughed at him and then Daddy took him outside and beat him and called him a faggot bitch.

He changed that day – became silent and a loner, never daring to talk soft in front of his father again, or Merle or anyone, neither had he wanted to. But now, all the words he never said to anyone threatened to tumble from his lips whenever he was near Carol.

He wanted to hold her and tell her all the things that Ed never did – that she was beautiful and strong and a survivor and… and… thank you. You mean the world to me and you make me a better man and I need you and all the jumbled thoughts that kept him from sleeping at night.

As much as he wished he could tell her he knew he could never pull it off. He was no Romeo standing under a balcony – he was just a no-account son of a bitch from the mountains. He didn't deserve her.

He wished things were simple, like they seemed to be when he joined Joe's gang after he lost Beth. There were no negotiations or fighting – when somebody wanted something, all he had to do was stake his claim. It all turned wrong in the end, but they had a code, and that was worth more than a thousand words.

He laughed to himself when he thought about what might happen if he walked up to Carol and claimed her as his own. She'd probably laugh and then beat his ass to the ground. He felt a little excited when the thought entered his mind. He wanted her, but hadn't a clue how to go about it.

Which was why he was tired.

In the end, he marched up to her door and pounded on it – fuck the neighbours. She opened the door dressed in a pair of snug cotton pants and a tank top – just getting ready for bed.

She looked so delicious in that moment that it was a struggle not to grab her and take her against the wall.

'Daryl – are you ok? What's the matter?'

'Can we talk?'

'Of course, we –'

Before she could say another word, he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, slamming the door behind them. Carol was silent with amazement.

'Before the farm, when we were on the road, you told me you were a burden. Do you remember?'

For a moment, she looked at him like he was insane, but after a few seconds her expression softened in recollection. 'Yes, I do.'

'You still feel that way? Is that why you won't let anybody in?' Daryl had no idea where this was coming from, but suddenly he had to know. 'You tell me I need to feel things, but you won't let me take care of you.'

Remembering that day in the woods after Beth died, Daryl realised that that was he moment he knew he loved her. He recalled the soft touch of her lips on his forehead and wished with all his heart that he had taken her in his arms and kissed her properly. He wasn't sure when he had begun to feel this way – maybe it was back at the prison when she found her smile again, when she teased him and flirted with him in a way that made him feel as nervous as a kid.

Maybe it was much further back, when he saw her take a pick-axe to her dead husband's skull with such violence that he knew he had underestimated her. When it really invaded his whole being was that moment when he saw her again after Terminus, when he knew that he could never be parted from her again.

Carol shook her head helplessly. 'What am I, Daryl – if I'm not a mother? I can't hunt like you. I can fight, but when I do – when I'm forced to kill people – it haunts me. If I can't live without regret like you, I just drag people down.'

'You think I don't regret things – hell I got nothing but regrets!' He was unsure how they had gotten around to talking about this stuff – feelings he had squashed down inside him for so long. But she had unleashed him and there was nothing that could hold him back now. 'I mean losing Beth and not looking harder for Sophia… I think about it all the time.'

There were tears in Carol's eyes now, but they were not the cold, hard tears that he had seen before. There was something in her eyes that looked like hope.

'Most of all what I regret is not being with you all that time. I could'a told you I loved you hundreds of times, but I was always chicken. Pfft, you ain't no burden. You know where I'd be if I never found you all? I'd be walker meat, or out there in some gang like the Governor's people, or the goddamn cannibals…'

'That isn't you, Daryl,' Carol broke in. She seemed to have missed or ignored the part where he told her he loved her. 'That's not who you are.'

'Hell, I'm who I am because of you. I never saved you – you saved me. And I know you're afraid of lovin' people – I've been afraid of that all my life. I won't be afraid of that anymore, 'cause I do love you, Carol.'

Daryl felt light-headed and giddy. Somewhere in the middle of all that gushy, emotional talk he had told her everything he wanted to. She knew he loved her – the only question was what she was going to do about it.

The question was answered by her lips pressed firmly against his and her arms reaching around his neck. He was paralysed with shock for a few seconds, but then wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. They both moaned with the sensations caused by their bodies finally colliding.

Daryl was terrified – it had been so long for him since he had been touched with any kind of tenderness that he barely knew what to do. Carol seemed just as tentative, but as they familiarised themselves with each other they both became bolder. Their mouths opened and when Daryl felt her tongue pressing against his, he groaned uncontrollably.

His hands roamed over her body, feeling himself come to life for the first time in what seemed like forever. His blood felt like it was boiling in his veins, making his skin hot to touch as Carol's fingers ran up his arms and over his shoulders.

He knew he was lost – his desire for her was so overpowering that he knew he would never be able to stop – but he knew he had to. He pulled away, seeing her confusion as he stared into her eyes.

'I need to know – you want this?'

His heart almost burst when she smiled, her eyes bright with love and desire. 'Daryl, if you don't make love to me right now, I'll kill you.'

He reached down and picked her up, gripping her thighs as he carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, with one word reverberating in his brain:

Claimed.


End file.
